


the chemicals between us

by greyskiesblack



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskiesblack/pseuds/greyskiesblack
Summary: Sometimes lovely things twist into something terrible. But sometimes you can recover what was lost.





	the chemicals between us

**Author's Note:**

> **TW:** in case the tags didn't make it super clear, there's mentions of abuse in this. nothing too graphic or descriptive, but it's there.
> 
> title from Bush's [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AtnKPh-hE8).

Prompto never expected things to go like this.

The first night he’d stayed over at Noctis’ it had been light and airy and perfect. They’d watched a horror movie while cuddling under blankets on the couch, and when it came time to leave neither of them had really wanted to move from the cosy little bubble of warmth and tender happiness they’d made.  
So Prompto had stayed the night, curled safe in the warmth of Noctis’ slender arms. And when he woke up to Noctis watching him they’d both smiled shyly and laughed it off as the delicate fluttering of new feelings.  
That had been the first night. The best night. The night Prompto replays in his head when he stares at the darkened windows and the faint lights of Insomnia spread out before him like stars.

He hasn’t gone home for two months. Noctis always has some new excuse. Some new video game to play. Some new threat carefully delivered with a dramatic flair about how Prompto is the _only one_ Noctis can rely on. That everyone else is bought and paid for and Noctis can never tell if they care or not.  
Prompto cares. Prompto’s pretty sure the only reason his heart beats is so that his eyes can see the way Noctis’ face lights up with a careful smile when he sees Prompto sprawled out on the couch like he never wants to leave.  
And besides, Noctis isn’t wrong. Prompto doesn’t have a real home to go to. So what’s so bad about staying with his best friend every night? Ignis might disapprove, but Ignis disapproves of _everything_. It’s just how he is, stiff and straight-laced and totally utterly boring.

It’s just that Prompto can’t remember Noctis ever being so _mean_. So jealous. It’s easier to stay home from school so he doesn’t get in trouble later for talking to one of his classmates. But then Noctis pries and pries into what Prompto did all day – like he doesn’t _believe_ that all Prompto did was sleep and eat and play some video games and stare out at the city. Noctis’ voice is hurt when he asks if Prompto would rather spend his nights alone.  
Which he wouldn’t. Not when he knows what it’s like to fall asleep curled around someone he loves. Someone who loves him back. How can he go back to a cold and lonely bed after that? So he kisses Noctis’ tears away and promises him that he’ll never leave. No matter what.

But now Prompto isn’t allowed outside. And sure, Noctis has a killer balcony with an amazing view. But Prompto misses the feel of rain on his face and lying on the grass at the park, staring up at the rustling leaves making imaginary shapes. And the way it feels to run like there’s something chasing him that he’ll always outpace. The apartment is so cold and boring when Noctis isn’t there. But he’ll know if Prompto leaves. The doorman or the alarm or _something_ will tell him and all Prompto can do is look at the city and sigh.

And one day Ignis stops by with groceries and finds him sitting at the kitchen table staring at his hands like he’s been staring for hours because he has nothing else to do and prim and proper Ignis’ face had fallen. And somehow Prompto started crying and Ignis stroked his hair and told him that it was fine, everything was fine and they’d figure something out.  
And then Noctis had come home in a rage because he’d _known_ and Prompto didn’t even know how and Ignis had been thrown out and Noctis had yelled and cried and broken almost all the plates he owned against the table.  
Prompto had slept on the couch. But he woke up in the middle of the night to Noctis curling up around him and whispering tearful apologies and a million platitudes that Prompto wasn’t entirely sure he believed anymore.  
Except it was Noctis and even though everyone said his name meant _night_ Prompto was pretty sure they were wrong, because Noctis was the sun and the moon and everything in between, and if he said he wouldn’t do it again then Prompto just had to believe him, right? And it’s not like any of those plates had been aimed at him, after all. Noctis was just…

Ignis left the groceries by the door. Prompto had to put them away himself. Stack up the new plates and sweep up and vacuum the shards before someone hurt themselves except, Prompto realised as he stared at the pristine floor, he was already hurting and he wanted it to be like that first sweet night instead of this sinking feeling whenever the door opened and Noctis came home.

But when the door banged open it was Gladiolus with a face like thunder and a voice even louder that boomed and demanded and when Prompto shook his head in mute confusion Ignis appeared and _shoved_ Gladiolus aside and they both tore the story out of him in ragged jagged hooks.  
And Gladiolus had looked like he wanted to punch everything and everyone and Ignis had cleared his throat and cleaned his glasses and Prompto felt so tiny and small and like he was about to ruin everything and send it teetering over an edge he hadn’t even known existed.

And then Noctis didn’t come home. Because Ignis had taken him to see a therapist and they wouldn’t let him out and all Prompto could think of was how it was all his fault and how could either of them sleep in cold and lonely beds, except at least the bed here still smelled of Noctis and the one he’d be in would smell of nothing, of strangers, of chemicals and despair.

And then Gladiolus had come along and bundled Prompto up like his possessions and thrown them all into the back of his truck and driven them not-even-far-away and set Prompto up in the spare room that smelled like flowers and wood and dust and nothing felt right at all. Prompto doesn't eat or talk and after two days Gladiolus yells at him and when Prompto flinches so does Gladiolus and they both stand awkwardly until Iris stomps over and tells Gladiolus to be nicer to him and it’s not even funny but Prompto laughs until his stomach hurts and Iris runs away and calls him weird and Gladiolus musses up Prompto’s hair and for a moment it almost seems like everything will be okay.

But Ignis visits and tells him that Noctis has been undergoing therapy and they’re not sure it’s helping and even though Ignis thinks it’s a horrible idea does Prompto want to visit him and _of course_ Prompto does because his heart skips a beat and skips right over all the arguments because what he misses is how Noctis would say the sweetest things and Prompto could kiss him all night except the sun would always rise and put an end to his happiness.  
But the Noctis they visit is dull-eyed and washed out. Even his hair is flat and lank and Prompto’s eyes well up with tears and Noctis frowns at him and he doesn’t even say anything nice – he doesn’t say anything at all – and Ignis hauls Prompto back to the car where Prompto tries to hold in the flood of his feelings but they spill everywhere and Ignis sighs and strokes his hair again and Prompto wishes he was Noctis instead.

And the summer crawls by like ants stuck and dying in glue traps and Prompto always feels so sorry for them but his clumsy hands hurt more than they help and he can’t help wondering if he does to Noctis what he does to the ants. And Gladiolus and Ignis visit but it’s not the same and not even Iris’ sunny smile can lift the fog that glooms around Prompto whenever he looks up and realises Noctis isn’t there and it’s _his fault_, no matter what Ignis says in that calm rational voice of his.  
And then Noctis is allowed home and Prompto flies to see him but when Noctis opens the door he holds it half-closed and his eyes are guarded and he tells Prompto that he’s sorry but he doesn’t want a visitor and when the door shuts in his face Prompto bursts into tears because he’s never been a _visitor_ and he wishes he could turn back the clock and just freeze it on that perfect night so that it plays forever and ever.  
Ignis finds him in the hallway and sighs. Prompto hunches his shoulders to ward off the lecture that doesn't come. Ignis puts a gentle hand on Prompto’s shoulder and he says that he’s cooking dinner and Prompto ought to stay.  
So he does but the food tastes like nothing and Prompto can’t help hearing every footstep above them and wondering why Noctis is pacing back and forth and the fact that he can’t go up and _ask_ or envelop Noctis in his arms is like a knife working its way up his throat from his stomach.

And just like that the boy he loved is a stranger to him and even though Ignis explains that Noctis is adjusting to his medication and Gladiolus pats Prompto’s hair and tells him not to worry, Prompto worries. He tosses and turns and when he sees his reflection one night he’s startled because he thinks he saw a ghost. So even though he knows it’s stupid he calls up Noctis at three in the morning because neither of them can sleep, right?  
Noctis answers and he sounds subdued. Prompto doesn’t even know what to say but he doesn’t want to hang up so he rambles before he can stop himself about nothing and a video game that he’s not even sure he actually played and when he finally runs out of steam he expects to hear a dial tone but Noctis laughs softly on the other end of the line and for the first time in months Prompto’s heart doesn’t hang heavy in his chest.  
And when Noctis apologises and the words hang in the air thick with meaning and everything unsaid Prompto’s eyes fill with tears but his voice doesn’t shake and somehow Noctis invites him over to see a movie and he promises that Ignis will take Prompto home and even if it’s messy and terrible and painful it still feels like hope.

And when Ignis smiles at him before Prompto goes into the apartment, and when the door opens on Noctis pacing back and forth and he looks up and his hair is messy and perfect and he gives Prompto a nervous half-smile, it feels like things might be okay in ways they weren't before.

**Author's Note:**

> i should be working on my final project for my last creative writing course, but instead i wrote this in an hour and i'm posting it before class like an absolute _rebel_.
> 
> hiatus is still ongoing but i wish it wasn't ♥


End file.
